The Amish Bride

by Mindy Starns Clark

  “If I owned this place—”

  Ezra interrupted me. “I know, I know. You’d paint.”

  “And add plants.”

  “And better display cases.” Ezra smiled.

  I nodded, aware that I spouted off my ideas every time we visited the bakery. I focused on the Eiffel Tower. What would be really cool would be to study in France, but if I couldn’t study there, a French bakery in Indiana would be—

  “Ella?”

  “Sorry,” I said, turning my attention back to Ezra.

  “I was telling you about Will.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “He got on my case about a sprinkler.”

  He continued to complain about his big brother chastising him for not fixing it properly. “But I had. It turned out the pipe had broken.” He loved Will, but sometimes his big brother was much harder on him than their daed was.

  When the waitress brought our hot chocolate and pastries, Ezra thanked her warmly. He didn’t have to be so nice, especially not to the person who had gotten the job I wanted.

  Once she’d walked away, I asked Ezra who was going to be Will’s right-hand man after he left.

  “That’s a good question.” His mouth spread into a grin. “Maybe he’ll finally appreciate me after I’m gone.” His grin faded. “I think he found a place for me.”

  “Really?” I wrapped my hands around my mug.

  “Will called the guy yesterday, and it looks like it might be the one.”

  “Oh?” I took a sip of hot chocolate, hoping he couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart.

  “I think Will likes the idea of this particular place because it’s so far away.”

  I raised my eyebrows as I put my mug down. “Where is it?”

  “Indiana.”

  It took everything I had to hold in my glee, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

  “Do you know what town?”

  “No,” Ezra replied, “but I think the info came from your grandmother. That’s how Will made the connection. The name of the owner is Kline. I remember you said you had family out there.”

  “Yeah.” I took another sip of hot chocolate.

  My plan was actually falling into place! Now, if only I could get myself out there too, before anyone found out the full scope of what I had in mind.

  Surely I could make that happen. Ezra probably wouldn’t be leaving for a few months, long enough for me to hunt for a job long distance and earn some more money here in the meantime. I already had a fair amount in my savings account from all the babysitting I’d done through the years.

  I half listened as Ezra chatted away, realizing my first two contingencies had been met:

  Ezra’s dairy job would have to be in Indiana.

  That job would have to be located within a reasonable distance of the Home Place.

  Check and check. That left just three more:

  Mammi would have to help me get permission from the current owners to come visit the Home Place.

  I would have to figure out how to get there and where I would stay once I did.

  My family would have to get over the realization that Ezra and I would be together again, despite their best efforts to keep us apart.

  The more I thought about things, the more the whole plan solidified in my mind. This wasn’t going to be just some extended visit on the pretense of helping out Mammi with her search. This would become my life for a time, for as long as it was Ezra’s life. We would go out there together. We would live separately while in Indiana, but we would come back home the same way we’d gone. Together.

  That meant I would need a job, an apartment, and enrollment in a baking school. All of the above in Indiana and near the Home Place.

  What had felt impossible before suddenly didn’t feel like a very big deal at all now. We’d already crossed the biggest hurdle, which was to get Ezra all set up to work and live at the Kline’s dairy farm in Indiana.

  Now that we had that, nothing could stand in our way.

  SIX

  I began spending every moment I wasn’t babysitting or cleaning houses at the library, so much so that Mom came to expect it. I told her I was researching and applying for jobs, which was true. It was also true I could have done ninety-nine percent of it at home on our computer, but it was nice to be out of the house—and not have anyone looking over my shoulder to see that the jobs I was applying for were all in Indiana.

  I’d take my lunch and sometimes, if the weather was warm, sit on a bench outside the library to eat it. I began to notice a man hanging around across the street. He was tall and wore a ski parka and a baseball cap pulled down so I couldn’t see his eyes. Even so, I had a feeling I knew exactly who he was.

  One evening, when Ezra picked me up at the library, as I pulled on my helmet I noticed the man walking toward us, but then he stopped abruptly. As I climbed on the back of Ezra’s bike, he just stood, staring at us. Ezra revved the engine and then pulled out into the light traffic. As we passed the man a few feet away, he turned from us so I still couldn’t see his face. I shivered as the wind took my breath away, ducking my head against Ezra’s back.

  I saw the man lurking across the street a few more times over the next several weeks. I couldn’t help but think it was Freddy. According to Zed, he was renting a room in downtown Lancaster.

  “Like at a cheap hotel?” I stirred the gravy with my good whisk as we talked.

  “No. Like in someone’s house. It’s an old lady with an extra bedroom. She rents it out to him.”

  “Creepy.” But as I spoke I decided it was a brilliant idea. That’s how living in Indiana could actually be affordable. That night, when Mom returned home, I asked her about Freddy and if she’d told him I spent a fair amount of time at the library.

  “I suppose I did,” she said, taking off her cape.

  I slumped down on to the couch and told her about the man I’d seen a few times downtown.

  “He’s curious, that’s all. I asked him not to approach you. I told him you’re not ready.”

  She went into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open and close. And then the water running. It was past ten. Zed was already in his room.

  Mom settled down at the dining room table, a bowl of yogurt and a glass of water in front of her.

  “There are leftovers,” I said.

  “Thanks, but I’m not very hungry.” As she bowed her head, I thought of Zed as a baby. It was funny, but I had no memory of Freddy. However, I clearly remembered sitting on the sofa, my legs out straight with Zed draped over my middle while I held his bottle. I loved him so much. Mom always said I had mothering down, right from the beginning, and what a big help I was to her.

  I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without Zed. Our home would have seemed so empty with just Mom and me. For the first time, I questioned whether I should leave. I managed most of the cooking, cleaning, and washing. How would they get along without me? And when Mom was gone on a birth, Zed and I always had each other. What would he do alone?

  When she raised her head, I leaned toward her. “Why do you think Zed feels okay with seeing Freddy while I don’t?”

  “You were older—three when he left. You have subconscious memories of him.”

  “Was I close to him?”

  A faint smile crossed her face. “You were more of a mama’s girl. And he was distracted a lot of the time by his own self-made misery. But, yes, you were fond of him. He adored you, in his way, and you loved him, the way a three-year-old loves her daddy.”

  Daddy. I winced at the word.

  Mom pushed her chair away from the table as if she were ready to go. “Any other questions?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll ask Freddy to keep his distance.” She stood, as if it took great effort, and then put her things in the kitchen and said goodnight. I followed her upstairs a few minutes later.

  The next day I found a couple of rooms for rent in Nappanee and also in Goshen. The Mennonite college was
there, so I figured I would fit right in as far as my age and looking for a place to stay in someone’s house. South Bend was also an option. Nappanee was by far the closest to where Ezra would be living and to the Home Place. I sent emails requesting more information from three different homeowners.

  There were several waitressing jobs listed in that area, including one at a café right downtown. They weren’t taking online applications, but I jotted down the address so I could mail an inquiry right away.

  And I still hadn’t broached the subject of going to Indiana with Ezra. Sure, I’d introduced my idea in theory, but I hadn’t let him know I really was serious about it, that I had been spending a lot of time actually trying to make it work.

  My opportunity came in early March. Ezra sent me a text on a Sunday afternoon and asked if I wanted to go to a singing. I accepted the invitation, but when we were on the way there, he got a phone call from Will. Ada wasn’t feeling well, and Hannah and her family all had the flu, as did Christy. They had sent Izzy home, hoping she wouldn’t get it, so Will needed Ezra to come watch the twins.

  We headed straight to Will’s, but when Ezra drove the buggy up their driveway, I was surprised to see Mom’s car in front of the house. It only took me a second to guess what was going on. Ada was pregnant—I’d been right about that. Or maybe she had been. Something was wrong for Mom to be there on a Sunday evening.

  I hesitated as Ezra stopped the buggy and told me to go on in while he unhitched the horse and put him in the barn.

  “I’ll be along shortly,” he said.

  I knocked on the kitchen door and stepped inside. Will was at the stove, stirring a pot. Mel and Mat were at the table.

  “Ella,” Will said, obviously surprised to see me. The little girls scampered down from the table, rushed toward me, and hugged my legs. For the first time ever, it struck me that they were as related to my brother Zed as I was. He and I shared a father, but he and they had shared a mother. Suddenly, my heart was filled with gratitude that Lydia had been willing to give up custody when Zed was born, and that my mother had been willing to adopt and raise him despite the facts of his paternity. That must have been incredibly difficult for both women. As much as I didn’t understand Lydia’s decision, and as crazy as my mother made me sometimes, I would always be grateful to them both.

  “We were on our way to a singing,” I explained. “We were closer to here than my house, so Ezra brought me along. He’ll be in as soon as he deals with his horse.”

  Will nodded. “I was heating up soup for the girls.” He handed me the spoon. “If you don’t mind taking care of this, I’ll go back in with Ada.”

  I put the spoon down on the counter and wiggled out of my cape, hanging it by the back door, and then told the girls to go wash their hands. I hoped they wouldn’t get the flu too—or give it to me. I ladled up the soup. It was thick, with tender noodles and lots of chicken. When the girls returned, I told them to blow on the hot liquid to cool it down. By the time Ezra joined us, they were nearly done.

  As they finished up, he told me how much he would miss Will’s girls when he was in Indiana.

  “I spend more time here than at my mamm and daed’s,” he said.

  I knew they would miss him too. The twins carefully carried their empty bowls and spoons to the counter and then headed down the hall to wash their hands again.

  “I wish I had a brother my age who was going too. It would be so much easier if someone I knew were going with me.”

  I glanced around, glad we were alone. “I could go.”

  He looked startled. “No, Ella. We already talked about that—”

  “I found a room to rent online,” I said quickly, interrupting his protest. I’d heard back from all of the landlords and decided on which one I thought would be the best fit, a really nice-sounding woman named Penny. “And several waitressing jobs that are open. I have quite a bit in savings already. I’m certain I could pull it off.”

  “But I’m not going to get married before I join the church.”

  “Of course not. And I’m not going to get married before I go to baking school. I found one in South Bend, which is less than an hour’s drive from Nappanee.” I didn’t say I didn’t have any idea if I could figure out how to get there. Or how I would pay for it. The packet still hadn’t come in the mail, so I had no idea how much it would actually cost. “That’s as far as I’m thinking. But it would be nice for both of us to have a friend.” I wouldn’t have a problem, especially if I was in the same town as Ezra.

  “I just want to get out of here,” I said. “I’m feeling more and more pressure to deal with my dad. And I’ve wanted to go to Indiana to meet my relatives ever since Ada came back from Switzerland and gave me the box. It’s the perfect opportunity, Ezra, for both of us. Besides, my grandmother wants me to go there for her sake too.”

  As I finished, the little girls came running into the room. Before he could respond, they were up on the bench and crawling on his back.

  SEVEN

  I left with Mom without seeing Ada. Will walked both of us out to the car, thanking my mother and then adding a nod of gratitude to me. I hadn’t done anything except dish up soup. Ezra was the one who read the girls book after book after book. He was the one who told them to put their pajamas on and brush their teeth. He was the one who told them jokes and then tucked them into bed.

  Mom was silent until we reached the highway. Then she let out a sigh, and even though it was dark I could tell her eyes were teary by the sound of her voice.

  “Did Ada have a miscarriage?” I asked.

  “You know I can’t answer that,” she responded, and then she swiped her index finger under her eyes. It would be breaking confidentiality if she told me, even though Ada was my cousin. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

  It was pretty clear what had happened. She was probably just trying to be vague because she felt as if I already knew too much. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d seen her cry.

  “I’m turning into an old softie,” she said. “A lot of things hit me tonight.”

  I gazed out at the pastures still covered in snow. Poor Ada. I knew how much she loved being a mom and could only guess how much she wanted to add another baby to her and Will’s family. She must have gotten pregnant soon after her wedding.

  As Mom neared the covered bridge, my phone beeped. It was a text from Ezra. I quickly opened it.

  Thought through what you said about Indiana. I’d like it if you came along. I’m leaving in a week. Let’s talk more. Ez

  I quickly closed my phone and did my best not to smile, but Mom was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice my change in expression or even ask me, as she usually did, whom the text was from. I waited an hour until I texted Ezra back, and then I simply sent one word. Cool. Another ingredient for my “recipe for life” was coming together.

  Two days later, Ezra came by the library on his motorcycle and asked if I wanted a ride home. It was a warm March day. As I walked beside him out to his bike, I noticed that his hair had been cut, back into the bowl shape he’d avoided for the last four years. He probably thought that would go over better in Indiana.

  “How about if we go to the park first?”

  “Sure,” I said, although I would have rather gone somewhere more private.

  The green shoots of daffodils were managing to emerge, even though winter had hung on so late. I gulped in the air, happy to be on Ezra’s bike again. I felt such freedom as we zipped around the block and down the street. A sense of hope filled me as we sped along.

  The park was filled with people, but Ezra led the way to a bench near the playground. The voices of children clanged around us. I watched a mother carrying an infant while chasing a toddler. Another mother was trying to wrestle a little boy into a stroller.

  “Have you made the arrangements to rent a room?”

  “I told the woman I was interested.”

  “And you talked to your mom?”

&
nbsp; “I’m eighteen, Ez.”

  “Not for another month,” he answered. “Marta Bayer is the last person in the world I want to offend.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You know how hard she is to talk to.”

  Ezra stared at me, a frown on his face.

  Feeling chastised, I said, “I’ll do my best.”

  We sat there for a moment, both staring off at the playground, me wondering why I felt so unsettled about something I wanted so badly. Chalking it up to nerves, I broke the silence.

  “You know what would be cool?”

  He shook his head.

  “If we could take your bike.”

  He laughed. “I’d have to hire a driver with a trailer. That wouldn’t go over well with the family.”

  “Or, if the weather is good, we could drive it out.”

  “It’s a long trip, Ella. Almost ten hours. Something like that. And I doubt if the family I’m staying with would be thrilled to have me show up on my bike.”

  I pulled my knees to my chest, my feet flat on the bench, my dress tucked around my legs. “Maybe we could store it at wherever I end up staying.”

  He shook his head. “As usual, you’ve thought of everything.”

  “Not everything. I just like to brainstorm, that’s all.” I hugged my legs tighter. “We could wait to decide, once we know what the weather’s like.”

  We talked a little longer and then Ezra put his arm around me. I snuggled closer. With all of the angst of figuring out our futures, we hadn’t had much time for us, not like we used to. He leaned toward me, his chin brushing the top of my head. I turned my face toward his, and then, to my surprise, he leaned down and kissed me, tenderly. In the park. In public. In front of all of Lancaster if, in fact, anyone was watching. When he pulled away, he had a grin on his face.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “For?” I stammered, sure he wasn’t referring to the kiss, but I had no idea what he meant.

  “Going with me.”